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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384638">The Dawn of the Blue Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayisdreaming/pseuds/kayisdreaming'>kayisdreaming</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assume Blue Lions route but it's relatively generic, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Post-Canon, takes place in Brigid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:08:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayisdreaming/pseuds/kayisdreaming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of the war, the histories say that Petra and Ashe created the order of the Blue Sun for Brigid. What it leaves out is the struggles and challenges that led up to that moment. And the closeness between its two creators. </p><p>This work aims to address that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Dawn of the Blue Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I took some liberties with the culture of Brigid, since it doesn’t feel like we get much info about it. So please pardon any mistakes or assumptions on my part. </p><p>Though I avoided it where I could, [italics] are used for places where I couldn't work around Brigid's language. So any dialogue with that format is in Brigid's language.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The breath Ashe let out was unexpectedly shaky. It wasn't really appropriate, all things considered. The railing he leaned on was solid, the stone carved in elegant and magnificent patterns. The air was warm as it blew in from the sea, flowing through the leaves of the immense tropical plants beneath him. The sea shimmered with the light of the morning sun, sparkling in hues of orange and pink.</p><p>It had been a year already, and still it all seemed so surreal. It felt like a dream, one he was sure to wake up from at any moment. Perhaps he would wake to find himself still at war, fighting under Dimitri's banner. Or perhaps he would wake to find himself with a pile of books in front of him, and Lord Lonato scolding him with a smile. Or, maybe, just maybe, he would find himself on the streets again, waking as his stomach grumbled.</p><p>"It seems you are doing some thinking." A gentle hand accompanied the kind voice, not so much snapping him back to reality as guiding him there. "Is everything well?"</p><p>"Sorry," Ashe laughed weakly, "I guess I just got distracted."</p><p>Petra tilted her head, the smallest of frowns tugging at her lips. "Can I be helping with that?"</p><p>"Oh, really, it's nothing!" At least nothing he wanted to concern her with. She was the queen of Brigid. He was her knight . . . who had an increasingly worrisome habit of spacing out. "I was just looking at the ocean and I must have lost track of time, that's all."</p><p>Her eyes caught his for a moment, searching. With a sigh, she turned her face toward the sea. Slowly, her gaze softened, smile so gentle. Like this, she looked even more regal than she had back at the Academy. Perhaps now it was because she could act as a queen, and not be so overburdened by the heavy weight of an uncertain future.</p><p>A voice called from behind them. Ashe vaguely recognized the words--some equivalent to 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Highness', but (according to Petra) not exactly a direct translation. He still couldn't even attempt to pronounce it right.</p><p>He turned to face the man properly, Petra doing the same. It was one of Brigid's guards, bowing low before he began to speak in Brigid's native tongue to his queen.</p><p>To call the order 'guards' was not giving them their due. But 'knight' still held too many connotations in Ashe's mind. Knights were always this mixture of chivalry and holiness (at least with the Knights of Seiros). Shining armor and heavy weapons. Honor in combat and glory in righteous death.</p><p>'Warrior' seemed more apt, though even then it wasn't wholly proper. Brigid's warriors were different than the knights to an almost extreme degree--but by no means did he think that made them dishonorable. They were quick and light, meant to attack quickly and end a battle before there were casualties. There was honor in surviving, so long as one fought with respect. And it was that respect that Ashe could admire. Even if it was still well beyond his normal understanding.</p><p>But Petra had brought him here to make his order of knights. Which meant that--to an extent--she saw value in both techniques. While she encouraged him to learn from her people, she made it rather clear that she didn't expect--or want--him to change. She wanted both the warriors of Brigid and the knights of Brigid to keep her homeland safe.</p><p>Not that he really had any luck making the knights work. So far it was just an order of one. Most of the warriors did not trust him (which was fair, really), and he would not force any of them to accept him.</p><p>"Will you be alongside coming, Ashe?" Petra asked, smiling warmly. Her warrior glanced in his direction, frown subtle but gaze illustrating plenty his distrust. It was a warning--never verbalized but communicated clearly enough. Most of them looked at him like that.</p><p>It didn't really matter what she was doing, though he had a good guess. He returned the smile and nodded. "Of course."</p><p>
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</p><p>Brigid's villages were different than that of Fodlan, but not significantly. People still visited the markets to get their supplies and food. Children still ran down the streets, allowed to be blissfully ignorant of any struggles outside the city's land. People still traded and negotiated and squabbled among themselves.</p><p>Even now, he was slowly becoming accustomed to the looks. There were far more back when he had first arrived--when Petra had initially taken on her role and insisted he join her. To be fair, he stood out considerably. When he passed, people noticed. And they had looked at him like people had when he was still a common thief.</p><p>He couldn't blame them. Their queen had been stolen before. No doubt they worried that he would do the same. How else would they know those of Fodlan?</p><p>With a slow exhale, he glanced back to Petra. She was speaking with a couple of the stall owners. Not to purchase, really, though she did enjoy practicing bartering on occasion. This was more business, to make sure her people felt comfortable with their situations and with her.</p><p>He could pick out a few words from her conversation, but not all of them. Something about their supplies. That word meant . . . to sustain. So, if he could piece it together right, she wanted to make sure their business was doing well. Or . . . asking if there were issues about it. He couldn't quite catch the nuance on that one.</p><p>Well, at least it seemed the response was positive enough. The people smiled and bowed, returning to their stalls as Petra turned her attention further down the street.</p><p>"Everything okay?" He asked, falling into step just behind her as she made her way toward the ports and imported goods.</p><p>She nodded. "The harvests are strong. We will be doing goodly this year."</p><p>"I'm happy to hear that." Strong times meant that it would be easier to keep order. Hungry people made for dangerous ones, regardless of where they were. Plus, a weak harvest would mean they'd have to rely more on Fodlan. And, while he trusted Dimitri and the Archbishop, he wasn't sure any agreement would ultimately benefit Brigid. Not with both countries still recovering from the war.</p><p>"Oh, right," he chuckled weakly, "sorry I have to keep asking you for, um, translations." He could recall how many people had viewed Petra and her struggle with the Fodlan tongue. And here he was, not even half as competent as she had been. He wanted to do well, but still he was struggling. It was frustrating.</p><p>Petra smiled, shaking her head. "You are doing much improvement. There is much difficulty here. It is a different . . ." Her eyebrows scrunched together as she considered the word.</p><p>"Dialect?"</p><p>She brightened considerably. "Yes! Dialect. There are many in Brigid."</p><p>"Well, that makes me feel a bit better." Somehow she always seemed to be able to do that. "I still wish I could learn faster."</p><p>"It is a great assistance to have others to be speaking with." Petra mused. "Back then, I had many at the academy. You should be trying that."</p><p>He tried not to grimace. He <em>did</em> try. It just so happened that many didn't want to speak with him. But that wasn't something she needed to be concerned with. "I'll try that. Thanks, Petra--er--Your Majesty."</p><p>She smiled, and nodded ahead toward one of the stalls by the ports. "I would be liking your help."</p><p>"Always happy to."</p><p>He stepped up to the stall, holding himself as he always believed the knights did in his books. Head level, shoulders square, each step filled with purpose. Here there was no space for doubt or hesitation. He kept his smile kind (in hindsight, he probably should have asked how Sylvain always managed that), since his purpose wasn't to intimidate.</p><p>The merchants liked to think that, because most people of Brigid didn't speak Fodlan's language well, that they were stupid. That they could try and trick and tease and come up with a plan that benefited merchants more and harmed Brigid.</p><p>Such a strategy was cut short when they would learn Petra's knight was both fluent in their tongue and skilled in picking out such treachery. He'd yet to meet a merchant who could outwit him.</p><p>His eyes fell over the goods in the stand. And then to the ledger in his hands. Most seemed fair. Perhaps a little high, but it was to be expected with the fees associated with travel. For the most part, it was relatively normal.</p><p>Except for one thing.</p><p>"I don't recall the antitoxins being so high last time." He said, tilting his head slightly.</p><p>The merchant's smile widened. "You know, with the way things are in Fodlan, the output is way less. We have to raise the price to keep from running out of supply."</p><p>Ashe mirrored the smile. This wasn't the first time they had tried that. This time of year, the temperatures in Brigid rose. The more poisonous snakes and beasts would come nearer the cities. Antitoxins would be required to fill the gap. It was a necessity, but one Brigid couldn't fill because it was just too hot for the poor plants.</p><p>"That's odd." He said, tilting his head. "This time of year, the herbs to make it are practically as common as weeds. I recall seeing one grow right off a bolder last season."</p><p>"I'm sure you're mistaken." The man said. There was just the slightest tremble at the edge of his words, which slid into a laugh.</p><p>"Perhaps." Ashe brought his knuckles to his lips, tapping lightly. They still had a month or so before the season would properly change, and before their current supply of antitoxins ran out. "I'll have to ask Sir Molinaro, then, if he could supply the herbs for me."</p><p>"T-the King's Vassal?"</p><p>"Yes, of course." Ashe hummed slightly. "He was very helpful with the last shortage. Our apothecaries have the remainder of ingredients needed, so really we only need those."</p><p>The merchant paled. If word came that their own apothecaries would be making the medicine, then his own supply would be forgotten. The people of Brigid would rather buy Brigid's goods than that of an outsider. Even if it was, overall, a little more expensive.</p><p>And they both knew that.</p><p>"Oh, you know what, I had this mislabeled!" The merchant said, laughing weakly. "This price is meant for the Pure Waters! What a horrible blunder--I'm terribly sorry, sir!"</p><p>"It's okay." Ashe chuckled. "Mistakes happen all the time. I'll just make this adjustment . . ." he marked up his copy of the ledger and the merchant's, and handed it over with a smile, "and you'll be good to sell."</p><p>"T-Thank you, sir." The man looked over his list with slight disdain. But, if he wished to continue selling here, that was essential. "I'll have my payments to the treasury before I depart."</p><p>"Much appreciated." Ashe bowed his head slightly and turned back to rejoin Petra's side. He bowed low and lifted his head with a smile. "Shall we, Your Majesty?"</p><p>Amusement shone in her eyes. "Yes."</p><p>Without saying much more, he continued alongside the port. There were a few more merchant stalls, but most were aiming at selling at the incoming ships more than the townspeople. The local merchant's guild could make sure they weren't doing anything too irresponsible. For the most part, though, they would only be hurting themselves if they did.</p><p>They walked together in relative peace alongside the port. The more they walked, the fewer people who greeted Petra, asking things of her or just wishing to know her well being. Past the port was the beaches. And beyond that was the ocean.</p><p>He glanced over at the beach. Several hours had passed since they had departed in the morning, and the sun was already high in the sky. If she kept going, she would burn out.</p><p>That had happened early on, when she had just been through her coronation. She was so eager to get her people to trust her, to make them happy, that she had worked practically nonstop from dawn till dusk. By the time the moon rose into the sky, she had worked herself into a fever. One that Ashe had been awake all night tending to and trying to make better. Using any possible technique that Dedue had taught him.</p><p>Not wanting that to repeat again, he insisted that they visit the beach at least once during their business. Even if they were otherwise inside. Just to spend a bit to sit on the sand, or listen to waves, or slip under the warm sea to see the sky from below.</p><p>Today, they sat near the water, letting the waves lap at their ankles while they enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The seasons were certainly changing, the smell of the salt of the sea more prominent than it had been in the last few months.</p><p>As the sun shifted, he adjusted his hood. His freckles had darkened immensely since his time here (and at least tripled in number), but he was still more prone to burning than anything else. Petra had lightly teased him about it (there was a word she kept using when she did so, but never told him what it meant), but she had also been the one to commission a coat and hood of lighter materials so he wouldn't overheat.</p><p>"I thank you for doing the care for that." Petra said, voice soft and gentle. Here, she didn't need to present herself as firmly as she had as student, warrior, and queen. She could be more at ease. No one else was watching her for a mistake.</p><p>Ashe blinked. "With the merchant?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>He smiled. "It's my duty." A soft shrug. "I have to look out for everyone. Even if it's just a matter of making sure people aren't being taken advantage of."</p><p>"I thank you all the same." There was a directness in her tone that matched the sincerity in her gaze. Always so sincere--almost to a fault.</p><p>He swallowed, cheeks a bit warm. "Well, it was my pleasure, then." Perhaps they had been out here too long. He leaned forward a little so he could scoop some water in his hands and splash his face. It was refreshing, but it didn't really seem to ease the heat too much.</p><p>When he glanced back at her, she was looking up at the sky. "Everything okay?"</p><p>She tilted her head. "Yes. A storm will be coming tonight."</p><p>"Oh!" That wasn't entirely surprising, considering the season. "Should we, um, be heading back to the castle?"</p><p>"Yes. I am--I agree."</p><p>Slowly, he rose to his feet, offering his hand. Petra took it, though she barely used it at all as she stood. She was so graceful and lithe--something that never changed, even though it had been so long since they had been at war.</p><p>When she let go of her hand, she brought it to her mouth to laugh. "You are covered in sand."</p><p>Ashe immediately flushed, brushing off his pants as quickly as he could. The warriors of Brigid never had this problem--their materials didn't attract sand so much, and the less coverage meant that dry sand would just fall off dry skin. It was not so with what he wore. His pants practically attracted it--dry or not.</p><p>After a couple minutes of brushing it off, he cleared his throat. "Better?"</p><p>She smiled. "Yes." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let us be returning to home."</p><p>
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</p><p>For the most part, their journey back to the castle was always uneventful. The morning markets had passed, and now it was just the idle passing of people who far less urgently needed goods or supplies. Sometimes shop-owners looking for a good deal to make evening meals out of. Sometimes people wanting to buy goods to surprise their spouse or children. Most people's concerns were already addressed or at least acknowledged in the morning, so they weren't so likely to pester Petra in the afternoon.</p><p>The kids were still running around, though it seemed there were more of them this time. That was good, though. Children playing was always a sign of good times. Though it was a little disappointing that it seemed they weren't all playing together.</p><p>Without warning, one ran into him from behind, his companions running past.</p><p>"<em>[Sorry]</em>." The kid muttered, turning to run off again. Ashe blinked, body reacting entirely on instinct. He reached out, grabbing the child's arm and stopping him mid-stride.</p><p>In the child's hand was Ashe's coin purse.</p><p>Immediately the child paled, his squirming becoming more violent with every second. His thrashing was ultimately futile. Though he was no longer in the war, Ashe took his training seriously. He had to, if he wanted to keep Petra safe. Which meant he was certainly much stronger than the child.</p><p>"<em>[Calm]</em>." He said, trying to make his voice soft. He winced as the kid hit a rather sensitive bruise, but kept his hold all the same. Goddess, a proper sentence would be so helpful right now. But couldn't even think of any proper conjugation. So simpler was better. "<em>[No . . . I no hurt you.]</em>"</p><p>The child's words were frantic, panicked. Too quick for Ashe to even try to piece together any real translation. But he could pick out the important ones. Hungry, Friend, Alone, Sorry. The desperation was enough to make the rest of it clear. Regardless of the language, Ashe could feel it deep in his bones.</p><p>But it took a particular kindness and trust to even begin to help. If Ashe did anything wrong, he would only wind up in a worse situation.</p><p>Like if he let that child take his purse, that would only temporarily help. He could take the money and spend it, for himself or for any of his friends in a similar situation. But when the money ran out, they would return to the strategy that had worked before. And it would eventually fail or get them killed.</p><p>But if he spoke wrong, he'd only make the current situation worse. And he lacked the confidence to actively get it right.</p><p>"Um, Your Majesty?" Ashe glanced over his shoulder. Was this even proper? "Could I ask a favor?"</p><p>Petra smiled, though she did not close the gap between them. That was smart, actually, <em>really </em>smart. If she came near, the panic would only start once more. And that would ruin everything. "I will do so with great happiness."</p><p>It was as if the weight of the world had slid off his shoulders. "Could you, um, translate for me? I don't want to scare him."</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>"Can you tell him that he and friends can come to the castle, if they wish for food and shelter? Er, I mean, that is, I'd like them to be able to stay at the quarters you left for me and my . . . knights. And use those funds. Not that I wish for them to become knights, but if it isn't being used I want to--"</p><p>"Ashe, I have understanding." Petra said, nodding solemnly. "And approving."</p><p>Her words were slow and careful. It was brilliant. As a child, and a hungry and tired one at that, there was no guarantee that he had firm grasp on any complicated communication. Like this, even Ashe could understand the majority of it.</p><p>When she finished speaking, he slowly released his hold. The child stood there, looking at him, then at Petra, then him, and the purse in his hand. With a trembling hand, he put the purse back into Ashe's hands.</p><p>With that, he ran off.</p><p>"Ah--"</p><p>"There is no need to worry." Petra said, tone pleased. "I asked him to bring his companions. He should be coming soon."</p><p>Ashe nodded, retying the purse to his belt. It actually was rather impressive, that the kid had managed to get it in such a rapid movement. It wasn't as if Ashe was an amateur, either, so it wouldn't have been an easy one to untangle. Which meant there was a considerable amount of dexterity there.</p><p>If he <em>were</em> recruiting, that would have been a promising trait.</p><p>"I'm sorry I volunteered a part of the castle. And resources." Ashe said, looking a bit sheepish. Around them, people still continued their day as if nothing had happened. "I just didn't want him to . . ." to go through what he had to.</p><p>"I am having no disagreement with this." Petra replied. "They are children of Brigid. It brings me joy to see them cared on."</p><p>"I'll do whatever is needed to make up for this. I don't want to burden the staff."</p><p>Before Petra could respond, a chorus of children called out for her. She glanced up, and Ashe's eyes followed.</p><p>There was a group of seven, all of varying ages and genders. The one Ashe had caught had been in the middle--while he appeared to be no more than eight or nine, the oldest of them seemed as old as fourteen, and the youngest no older than five. While their state didn't look as bad as some of the children he had seen in Fodlan, their clothes were beginning to show the signs of it. Their frames were slender, even though they weren't yet made of only skin and bone.</p><p>It made his chest ache.</p><p>Petra motioned them to follow, kind words only echoing the sentiment. A promise of warm food and warm beds. All of them followed eagerly.</p><p>
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</p><p>Ashe had been very serious when he said he didn't wish to burden the castle. Of course, that wasn't entirely feasible. He had been rather useless as some of the staff outfitted the children with new clothes--nothing fancy, but at least there weren't any holes and it was warm.</p><p>Noticing his discomfort, Petra insisted he didn't need to watch over them at all times. She would watch over them while he was away. He tried to argue, but she was insistent.</p><p>Though at first wounded, Ashe quickly realized himself mistaken. Petra's words seemed sharp and blunt, but he had gotten skilled at reading her expression. He could see her meaning in the slight quirk of her lips. It wasn't a dismissal--it was permission to do something he was far better at.</p><p>And so he found himself in the nearby forest. There was no large game--at least not the deer of Faerghus--but there was game. In an hour, he had a few rabbits. It wouldn't be enough to feed a proper unit, sure, but it was plenty for a few children.</p><p>Humming to himself, he stopped by the gardens outside of the town.</p><p>He had worked on this with Dedue when he and Dimitri had visited to 'strengthen alliances' with Brigid a couple months ago. While the two leaders handled some negotiations (really, it was more for the show than anything else, hardly any different than being at the monastery's war table), Dedue had helped Ashe plant the seeds and seedlings in the makeshift garden. They were plants he had bred to tolerate the humidity and heat better, though that required much more care than usual (which was fine, since he had enough time in the evenings, anyway).</p><p>He pulled out a basket from his nearby chest and began filling it with ripe vegetables. Eggplants, potatoes, beans . . . it was a little unconventional, but with the right spices it would be fine.</p><p>With his haul, he went to the kitchens. It was early enough that the staff wouldn't have started making the meals yet. A few staff members were cleaning some pots and pans from the afternoon hours, but they didn't often speak to him. And so long as he left things clean, they really didn't seem to care.</p><p>He lay out his haul on the table, cleaning it and making general prep. Sure, it would be enough to feed them all, but there was really no guarantee on how picky they would be. If they saw the ingredients as unusual, they'd just as likely suspect him of poison as anything else. Which meant it would have to be something where all the ingredients looked vaguely generic.</p><p>Stew. Stew would work.</p><p>
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</p><p>When he stepped into his knight's quarters, a hot pot of stew in his grip and bowls balanced on the lid of that, and breadrolls precariously balanced on top, he found that Petra had already gotten them all seated and (to an extent) orderly.</p><p>Carefully, Ashe distributed the bowls and bread, and then distributed the soup as evenly as he could. He had, perhaps, made too much. Well, that was fine. That meant there would be enough for him as well.</p><p>Perhaps they could trust him if he ate with them.</p><p>"I would be liking some as well." Petra said, taking the seat closest to him.</p><p>"I--of course!" While he was grateful for her help, he hadn't expected her to join him the whole way in this. This was . . . a charity stemming from something he hadn't entirely recovered from. He passed her a bowl with a smile.</p><p>"I have gratitude." With a slight bow of her head, she began to eat.</p><p>He knew she was just being patient with him. After all, as she had said, he was doing good for her people. But that didn't mean she needed to watch over him at every second.</p><p>Perhaps, though, it wasn't that. Perhaps she didn't entirely trust him in this matter. After all, who just helped someone who tried to rob them? Who tried to help people who were not theirs?</p><p>With a sigh, he took a bite. It was good, though he had vastly under-seasoned it. He had to--there was no guarantee that the children wouldn't be sensitive to any particular spice, and he still wasn't entirely sure how well the vegetables would take to it. But at least the texture was good--easy to eat, varied enough to make it pleasant.</p><p>He glanced up. All of the children looked at their bowls, expressions pinched. Fingers twitched, but their hands stayed back as if their arms were tied to their sides. He could practically hear all of their stomachs grumble in unison, but still none of them moved.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>"<em>[I give to you from . . . kindness.</em>" He said, keeping his tone gentle even as he struggled around the words. "<em>[I do not want back.]</em>"</p><p>The eldest looked at him, gaze dark and cold. He had probably watched over them the longest, really. Been though all the trials, hardships, even betrayals. He had to be the protector. His words were quick--too quick for Ashe to catch.</p><p>But it seemed that he could catch Ashe's limited comprehension. Lips pressed together, he spoke again. The words were simpler, spoken slower. "<em>[To trust you. How can I know?]</em>"</p><p>He glanced at Petra, who continued to eat as if she was entirely unbothered by this conversation. Which meant . . . she trusted him to handle this on her own. Which was kind, actually. If he kept using her as the bridge, they'd never trust him.</p><p>"<em>[In a time far away]</em>," well, that wasn't entirely right, but close enough, "<em>[I was like you. Hungry. Tired. Doing much to keep family safe.]</em>"</p><p>"<em>[Doing what?]</em>"</p><p>"<em>[I stole. Very much. Like your little brother.]</em>" He glanced over at the little one who had tried to rob him earlier. The child held his head down in shame, face flushed.</p><p>"<em>[We can not pay.]</em>"</p><p>"<em>[I do not want that.]</em>"</p><p>"<em>[What do you want?]</em>"</p><p>"<em>[You safe.]</em>"</p><p>The boy looked at him for a long time, gaze piercing. Ashe kept his gaze level, hoping he could at least look half as sincere as he felt.</p><p>With a sigh, the boy reached for his spoon and began to eat. At first slow and methodical--as if he thought he might be able to taste any perceived poison--but then his hunger began to dominate any sense of control and he practically kept bringing his spoon to his mouth before he swallowed the previous bite.</p><p>It was as if that snapped any self restraint of the others, and they began to shovel food into their mouths. Well, at least the debate had lingered long enough that they wouldn't burn their mouths on it.</p><p>Petra chided them, insisting that they slow down. There was some idle threat about choking, but Ashe didn't even try to decipher it entirely. Instead, he tried to enjoy his meal before it became too cold. And tried very hard not to smile as he could listen to the children actually sound like children.</p><p>
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</p><p>"I can't believe it took so long to get them to stay." Ashe groaned, rubbing his face. "I'm still not certain they won't have vanished by the time we get back."</p><p>"We can only be doing so much." Petra said, gaze falling over the nearby houses. "I do not think they will leave."</p><p>"I hope you're right." Ashe sighed. Half of them were easy enough to convince. The appeal of a warm bed and consistent meals was an easy enough argument to persuade them. The older ones, though, they still were uncertain. They were sure there would still be a price, no matter what he said.</p><p>Just to even attempt to satisfy them this time, he had offered that they weed his garden so they could work up an appetite. And, if they had time left, one of them could take some coin of his and buy some things they'd like in their dinner. At least, then, if they did run, they knew where they could go to for food and might have a bit of money to make it for another day or so.</p><p>He let out a breath, letting his gaze pass across the street in the hope that it could serve as a distraction. The residential areas were always considerably quieter than the market areas. Sure, people still moved here and there, speaking with their neighbors and sometimes addressing their queen. Occasionally, some of the warriors walked alongside the streets. They had to, since they were so close to the forest here. But, for the most part, it was quiet. Peaceful.</p><p>A shriek pierced into the silence like a stone through glass. And then there were more, rapidly growing.</p><p>Eyes wide, his gaze snapped to Petra. Without even looking at him, she nodded. For her to run, it would create too much panic. For him, it was his duty.</p><p>And so Ashe ran on instinct, heading back the way they came. From how it sounded, it was by the markets. He rounded a corner, cutting it close. Panicked people running past, but no cause. Yet. Nearer the ocean, then. Past another corner, and he saw.</p><p>Invaders had appeared from the forest lines by the pier, not far from where he and Petra had relaxed the day before. Mages and soldiers draped in black, half of them already downed by Brigid's warriors. The other half quickly losing.</p><p>Or they would be, if it were not for the giant beast attacking from the sky above them. A giant bird would be little challenge to Brigid--though uncommon, they were easy enough to handle. But this one was littered with arrows that seemed to have so little effect. A mask covered its face, head glowing with a single stone.</p><p>Dimitri had warned that there was still a chance of the army of black mages appearing again, doing what they had done before. That there was still a chance that they could cause conflict.</p><p>Ashe had little doubt that this was them.</p><p>He drew his bow, downing one of the mages before he could finish a spell. "<em>[Fight mages!]</em>" He yelled, wishing he was even a fraction more fluent. But they had to be focused most. The dark mages had likely summoned the demonic beast, and there was a good chance they could summon more. Besides, the beasts were bad at following orders, which meant that it could attack friends and foe alike.</p><p>And yet the nearest warrior looked at him like he was an idiot. As if he hadn't been fighting them for years since his youth. Instead, the warrior charged at the beast with a howl, stabbing at it as it swooped down. They barely scratched it before a Thoron spell shot them from the other side.</p><p>Ashe hissed. He couldn't over-evaluate this. He didn't have the time to. True, a proper tactician would make things right. Would be able to properly arrange people and get them all to follow in the right line.</p><p>But he was a knight. His duty was to protect. So he followed his instinct.</p><p>He ran to the warrior's side, firing as quickly as he could. His shots were precise--they always had been--and with each shot another mage went down. He practically danced around the spells, doing all he could to not get hit. It drew attention to him, but that was good. He could fight them.</p><p>"Knight!" The voice startled him, causing a fire spell to singe the edges of his hair and hood.</p><p>His eyes flicked to the source. There, right before one of the food stalls, were two of the children he had helped the night before. The eldest and one young one. And they were looking up. At the demonic beast that began to swoop down at them.</p><p>Ashe cursed, drawing two arrows as he ran. He shot them as a single volley, shattering the creature's wings. And then he dove at the two children, grabbing them knocking them from the path of the creature's fall. It crashed loudly, utterly destroying a few stands.</p><p>"<em>[Go!]</em>" Ashe hissed, looking down at the two. At least they looked okay. They were startled, but uninjured.</p><p>He turned, facing the demonic beast as it lumbered up. Its wings flapped as it tried to regain flight, but that only ended in failure. Its head rose, mask crumbling as it turned its head to him. Good. That meant that it should fall soon. If he acted right.</p><p>Taking the opportunity, he fired more arrows. Aiming for the joints, the eyes, the mouth, the wings--anywhere that could cripple it and prevent an attack. And it was working. It seemed so confused by the volley that it couldn't so much as strike out with its wings or anything else.</p><p>And then its mouth began to glow bright red.</p><p>He couldn't take those hits well, he knew it. He had before, and if it weren't for Mercedes he likely wouldn't still be alive. He had to find a place to dodge--behind a house, behind a stall, even. Something to diminish it.</p><p>When he stepped back, he stumbled. Looking down, there was a foot. And then a leg. Then a few more feet. And then those kids who should have run away ages ago.</p><p>Oh, <em>Goddess.</em>Of course. They hadn't been born to battle. Not like this.</p><p>He didn't have time to yell at them. He could feel the heat building. So he did as any of the knights in his books would. He scooped the youngest one up, tossing him behind the nearest building, and grabbed the other and pulled him up by the arm, swinging around so the kid stumbled near his friend.</p><p>He didn't make it in time to join them. The flame breath was more of a burst, like a meteor slamming against his side.</p><p>Ashe hit the ground hard. It hurt to breathe, to even move. As his vision blurred, he could see a streak of purple. The flash of silver. The hulking shape of the beast dissolve into dark shadows that bubbled to nothing.</p><p>He smiled as the world around him faded to black.</p><p>
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</p><p>His recovery was slow. Healers and apothecaries managed to heal the worst of the burns. But it had taken all they had, so they couldn't heal the minor ones, nor could they heal his arm and a few ribs had been shattered in the blast. At least not entirely. Much of it would have to be medicinal, and that meant that it had to be a long and careful process.</p><p>It didn't bother him that he would have to take time to heal. It bothered him that Petra had to go off without him to address any remaining facets of those black mages. It bothered him that he couldn't cook on his own, and had to instruct the children as they made their own meals. It bothered him that he constantly had to have someone else help change his bandages, or help him get dressed.</p><p>It bothered him that, aside from the necessities, none of the kids really wanted to talk to him.</p><p>
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</p><p>"Knight<em>.</em>"</p><p>Ashe blinked at the voice, pausing as he returned a borrowed book to its shelf. It wasn't like he could do much else<em> but</em> read while he recovered. He glanced over his shoulder, smiling, though it was a bit strained. "<em>[Yes? What can I do for you?]</em>"</p><p>The eldest of the children, Dimas (Petra had told him), looked at him with far too serious of an expression. He stood there, shoulders straight like a young warrior, bereft only of a weapon and status.</p><p>But at least his expression wasn't cold anymore. At least not like it had been.</p><p>"Teach me."</p><p>Ashe's surprise was impossible to hide on his face. Petra had once suggested that Dimas may have been the son of a councilor or ambassador before the Adrestian invasion. If his parents were killed as a result of it, or any time during the war, he could have simply vanished into the chaos. But, with that role, he might have been taught a better mastery of Brigid's language (at least as compared to his companions). And--now that Ashe thought about it--probably Fodlan's, too.</p><p>But that didn't mean he was a master. And with Petra's absence, it meant Ashe really had no practice at all talking with anyone. So he could take advantage of this. "<em>[What to learn?]</em>"</p><p>Dimas' cheeks colored slightly, though his expression didn't change. "<em>[To be like you.]</em>"</p><p>"<em>[Me?]</em>"</p><p>"<em>[Yes.]</em>"</p><p>"I mean . . . ah . . . <em>[why?]</em>"</p><p>Dimas tilted his head, considering. His eyes narrowed. "I want to be a knight. Teach me."</p><p>Ashe was too startled to even try and translate in his head. "I don't . . . you don't need to do that." He chuckled a little weakly. "I told you before, you don't need to repay me."</p><p>"Not need. <em>Want</em>." Dimas scowled. "I want to protect."</p><p>Ashe's expression fell slightly. He bit down on an outright rejection. Who was he to tell someone that they shouldn't be a knight? After all, in all other universes, under all other circumstances, he never should have been able to become one. But he had persevered anyway. And a kind hand had made it happen.</p><p>But to become a knight here was to invite distrust and disdain. It was clear that he still wasn't trusted. And, with his injury, it was very likely that the warriors thought him useless, too.</p><p>"There are better ways to learn that." Ashe said, sighing. "I've heard the warriors recruit around your age. I'm sure the queen could--"</p><p>"<em>No</em>." Dimas' expression was fierce. "There are many warriors. There is one you. I want to be like you."</p><p>"But why me?"</p><p>"You saved me. You were hurt because of me. And yet you still smile. I want to be like that. To protect with a smile. Will you teach me?"</p><p>Ashe sighed, running his good hand through his hair. "Well, I suppose we could start with the theory."</p><p>
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</p><p>"<em>[Elbow up.]</em>" Ashe reminded, taking slow steps around the training ground.</p><p>"<em>[Show me again?]</em>" The expression on his knight-trainee was priceless. Trying to look earnest, but really just desperate for a break. He had probably tried that same one once or twice on Lonato--to no avail.</p><p>Well, at least Ashe had to give him some credit for cleverness.</p><p>"<em>[Alright.]</em>" He stepped up, drawing his bow and shifting into position. There was still the slightest tremble in his arm and fingertips, but it was something he had learned quickly to account for. It would take a long time to go away completely.</p><p>A small crowd gathered around. All of them his trainees.</p><p>Funny. A year ago, and he never would have even considered this a possibility. But it appeared that his act had garnered much attention in Brigid. Some of those he had protected volunteered, including a couple of the warriors. After that, there were those who had lost their homes in the war, or their place without battle, and wished to have a new one. Not just children, but teens, adults. Those who were willing were welcome. The Order of the Blue Sun was still not a large force, but it was a united one.</p><p>"<em>[Pay attention this time.]</em>" He shot an arrow, and then another, and another. He clustered them around the bullseye until there was hardly any space left upon it. Previously, he might have demonstrated by sheer consistency--one arrow sliding into another--but he still didn't have the confidence in emulating that. For now, this would have to do. "<em>[Practice accuracy. Every shot has to count. You may only get one.]</em>"</p><p>The trainees nodded eagerly, returning to their positions. Beyond them, other knights-in-training were locked in mock combat, practicing with their swords. Like with the archers, the older ones were all grouped together, taking it seriously as life or death. The younger ones still treated it as more a playtime than anything, but that was fine. They were safe here, and it wasn't as if he would ever even consider properly training them until they were of age.</p><p>Ashe couldn't resist his smile. They were doing well. Many of them still had many years to go, but they were making progress.</p><p>"Knight--I mean, Sir Ashe." Dimas was one of those. He had spent so long protecting his friends, so versed in more . . . unconventional means of fighting, that it only took a bit of training and polishing to make him into a knight. He took his duty seriously, and there were few others that Ashe would even consider as his second.</p><p>"<em>[</em><em>What is it?</em><em>]</em>" Ashe asked, smiling.</p><p>"<em>[</em><em>The queen would like to speak with you.</em><em>]</em>" Dimas blinked, considering. "<em>[</em><em>The usual place, she said.</em><em>]</em>"</p><p>"Oh! Of course!" That was . . . perhaps embarrassingly overeager. But with the order becoming his primary responsibility, it wasn't as if he had much time with Petra anymore. What time he did have was precious. "<em>[</em><em>Would you mind looking over them? Not that I distrust them, but I--</em><em>]</em>"</p><p>"I understand, Sir." Dimas' eyes glimmered slightly in amusement, even though his expression hadn't changed. "<em>[</em><em>I will make sure no one is hurt.</em><em>]</em>"</p><p>"[<em>Much appreciated.</em><em>]</em>" With a small nod, Ashe hurried off out of the training area, and out of town.</p><p>As he stepped along the beach, he had to appreciate that Petra was still taking breaks, even though he couldn't chide her about it anymore. Of course, in some cases, even he couldn't completely follow his own guidance. And, considering her summons, she likely knew that.</p><p>She turned her head as he approached, smile soft and warm. "Glad you could be joining me." Beside her, she pat the sand with her hand.</p><p>Ashe took the invitation without hesitation. He laughed. "Well, who would I be to refuse my queen's summons?"</p><p>She shook her head. "I did not summon you as queen. I summoned you as friend."</p><p>Ashe chuckled. "Well, I'd never refuse you, either."</p><p>"I know." Just the faintest blush spread over her cheeks. It was beautiful. It was a shame she turned her head, so that couldn't enjoy it more.</p><p>Still, that he got to see it was nice. With a soft sigh, he turned his attention to the sea. The tides were coming in, the waves more frequent and louder. A gentle breeze brushed over the waves, blowing through the strands of hair he just couldn't get to stay back. Beneath him, the sand was warm, like a gentle embrace.</p><p>"I have been doing some thinking." Petra said, voice more hesitant than he had ever heard it. He glanced over at her, but her face was still turned away.</p><p>"Is . . . something the matter?" He leaned forward, but he still couldn't catch her expression. She hadn't even been this hesitant when it came to handling those dark mages. Why now?</p><p>Petra glanced over, but only slightly. "Can you be removing your glove?"</p><p>"Um, sure?"</p><p>The moment he did so, he found his hand in hers. Immediately his cheeks heated up, and he was absolutely certain that he couldn't blame it on the sun this time.</p><p>"Is there a time when you are having regret in coming with me?" She asked. Her thumb brushed over the scars left by the burns. They used to make the skin tight and uncomfortable, almost impossible to even make a fist, but now they were barely noticeable. Not seeing them often helped a bit with that.</p><p>"Why would I regret it?" The bewilderment in his tone was only half of what he felt.</p><p>"I know what it is to be the outsider." Her fingers paused at one by his wrist. He was certain she could feel his heartbeat thrumming far too quickly beneath her fingertips. "And yet I had been asking that of you."</p><p>He put his hand on hers, if only to pretend he had some semblance of control over his own reactions. "I knew what you were asking of me. I wanted to do this. I still do." He chuckled. "Every day I wonder what I did to deserve being here with you. And everything you've done for me."</p><p>"You have done much for me as well." Petra's gaze finally returned to his, though her smile was a bit sheepish. The blush was still there. She seemed reluctant to continue.</p><p>"Is . . . this why you wanted to speak with me?" Ashe asked, chiding himself for how meek he sounded. He wiggled his fingers as if that might emphasize his question in the way his tone failed to.</p><p>"No." Her eyebrows knitted together. A slow inhale. Then exhale. "I wished to ask if you would get a mark with me. Here." She tapped his wrist.</p><p>He blinked. "Those are . . . for Brigid's spirits, though, aren't they?"</p><p>"Yes. For their protection."</p><p>"For the people of Brigid."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Petra, I'm not sure it's appropriate if I--"</p><p>"I wish for us to share marks so we might be sharing in their protection." The color in her cheeks darkened. "As I wish we might be sharing in our lives."</p><p>Immediately, Ashe knew his face was bright red. "Y-y-you mean--"</p><p>"In Fodlan, it is called marriage. I am of the belief you share rings. Here, we share marks." Her gaze caught his again, though there was a new determination there. It was as if she had stolen all the breath from his lungs. "I wish to be promising myself to you."</p><p>Dreaming. He must be dreaming. It was impossible. Impossible that he was a knight. Impossible that he had someone so close who would do so much for him. Impossible that someone so wonderful would wish to be married to him. Impossible that a <em>queen</em> would, of all things.</p><p>And yet he could still feel the world around him. Feel her fingers against his skin.</p><p>He brought her hand to his lips, smiling against her skin. She was warm from the sun. "I would love nothing more."</p>
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